


Teenage Troublemaker - Going for a spin

by LostGirl27



Series: Little Troublemaker [5]
Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Daddy Logan, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Fluff and cuddles, Gen, Logan and Rory being strict parents, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mommy Rory, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual Spanking, Parental Discipline, Spanking of a preteen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:49:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27400729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostGirl27/pseuds/LostGirl27
Summary: I'm guessing I'm currently experiencing the exact opposite of writer's block ;-) No, honestly, I'm having the time of my life over here, writing down all the sweet little ideas of the Huntzberger family life I created. Hopefully, you'll like this piece as well.If you have been paying attention to the story "Teenage Troublemaker" where Milo got in trouble with his parents for acting up at school, you'll probably remember the hint he was giving about the last time he had gotten a spanking from his father, when he 'borrowed' Logan's SUV for a spin. Well, read here the story I came up with to describe the situation back then (I just threw some more teenage angst, fluff and drama into the mix).Enjoy, everybody!** If parental discipline in the form of spanking isn't your cup of tea, go and get yourself a nice cup of coffee instead and DON'T read this fanfic. **
Relationships: Logan Huntzberger/Original Character(s), Rory Gilmore/Logan Huntzberger, Rory Gilmore/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Little Troublemaker [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/325976
Comments: 28
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Logan’s POV**

“What do you think you’re doing with those, kiddo?” I heard Rory ask with amusement in her voice as I stepped out of the front door and onto the driveway in front of the house, carrying what seemed like tons of various packages and boxes.

My view was slightly blocked due to those items, so I couldn’t see who she was talking to – but I already had my own suspicions.

Sure enough, my oldest son Milo groaned dramatically in response.

“I’m bored, Mom! Why can’t we go to the park now? Dad promised!” he whined, ignoring his Mom’s question altogether. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, even though I really needed to concentrate on the task at hand, which was balancing those boxes while heading into the direction of the garage in order to tidy them away. I was just about to say something or at least stop and look what Milo was up to that had Rory asking him like that, when I suddenly lost balance and all but the lowest box that I was holding onto crashed to the ground.

“Damn it” I mumbled, sighing. Rory was already hurrying over to me and helping me picking the boxes up once more.

“Here, let me help you, honey” she offered while I cast a quick glance at my son. I couldn’t help the amused smile that instantly danced around my lips when I caught sight of what he was doing: he had obviously gotten some of my tools from the garage that Luke used whenever he was mending one of our cars and was currently using them to _fix_ his bike. Most of the time, he was behaving much older and hardly like the ten-year-old he was, especially when it came to the quite grown-up things he said sometimes, but then again, there were times when he played and goofed around just like a little boy.

My first instinct was to get him to help his Mom and me with the boxes and the various other chores that needed finishing around the house and garden, but I quickly decided against it. His face was just so solemn and sullen that I decided to indulge him instead – even though I quite clearly remembered the talk I’d had with him about going to the park. I’d told him I’d take him there on the condition that he would finish his overdue homework and that he would help me clean both Rory’s and my car.

Once I’d helped Rory putting the boxes away, I told her: “Is it okay with you if I take Milo to the park for an hour or so? I promised him we would go there together to play ball…”

Rory grinned knowingly and nodded. “I think that’s a great idea, Logan” she answered while we both exited the garage. She proceeded to close the garage door behind her and sighed. “I’ll just stay at home with the twins, I guess… not sure if I want to take them anywhere, seeing how grouchy they get sometimes right after their afternoon naps.”

“Alright” I mused, smirking. “So every man and woman for themselves, eh?”

“Considering the fact that you get to spend the afternoon with our relatively easy-going ten-year-old, I’d think long and hard about such statements, love” Rory retorted, narrowing her eyes at me playfully. “Keep the sass up and I’ll just run away to have myself a nice couple of hours in town while you deal with all three of them.”

“No, please don’t, they’ll eat me alive” I pleaded immediately, pulling her to me and into a warm embrace. Giving her several short and smacking kisses right onto her smiling lips, I told her: “I’m shutting right up, I promise.”

“Wise choice, blondie” she remarked, making me laugh. I gave her one more kiss that lasted longer than the previous few – if it hadn’t been for the _several_ kids we had to look after, I’m sure we would have gone even further.

Watching her head back into the house to check on Lori and Lucas, I turned to my oldest son and made my way over to him. Sitting beside him on the grass, I smiled at the way he listlessly picked at his bike with one of my screwdrivers. He then looked warily at me, scrunching up his forehead.

“Hey, what’s with the pouty face?” I asked, ignoring the pout that was indeed forming on his young face at my remark. “Rumour has it you would like me to go to the park with you…?”

“Yes, that’s what I just said!” Milo whined, obviously not in the mood for any lame dad-jokes. “You said we could go, so take meeeeee!”

“Whoa, little man, hold your horses!” I exclaimed, cocking an eyebrow at him and already going into stern dad-mode. “First of all, that’s not what I said. I said we could go as soon as your homework is finished…”

“But, it is!” he grouched and I could feel some annoyance rising at his tone.

“Don’t interrupt me, please” I chided, giving him a pointed look. He frowned. “As I was saying, I told you we could go as soon as your homework is finished and both your Mom’s and my car is clean. So… we still have quite a lot of cleaning to do and I’d like you to show your homework to me or your Mom before we go.”

He groaned dramatically, abandoning both his bike and the screwdriver and letting himself fall backwards onto the lawn.

I allowed myself the luxury of sighing loudly before mimicking my son’s position and lowering myself beside him on my back.

Sensing that he would probably talk to me soon enough about what was eating at him, I just closed my eyes and crossed my arms behind my head to get myself comfortable.

After a few seconds, I heard Milo moving around restlessly beside me and grinned when I felt him placing his head on top of my chest. Peeking down at him, I saw him looking up at me directly, the frown still on his otherwise angelic face.

“Daaaaddyyy” he whined and my smile grew even bigger. Even though I absolutely knew that he was trying to manipulate me at any second now, I still enjoyed being called that by him, since it didn’t happen very often now and he had stopped calling me Daddy regularly shortly after his eight birthday.

“Sooooon?” I asked, using exactly the same tone of voice and making him smile briefly.

“Can’t we go now? I promise, my homework is done and I’ll help you with the cars later! Please!”

“Oh, give it a rest, you little charmer” I groaned, still smirking and watching how his frown turned instantly into a smile of his own. “Against my better judgement and even though I can already see myself cleaning the cars on my own later, I’ll take you now.”

Milo immediately whooped enthusiastically and jumped up. “Thanks, Dad!”

I got up from the lawn, casually throwing an arm around his slender shoulders.

“But first, you’ll put your bike back in the garage and go get your homework for me, please. I’ll have a quick look through it and then we can be on our way” I told him, gently steering him over to where the tools and his bike lay in the grass. “I’ll put away the tools in the meantime.”

I could feel some tension going through his whole body then, but I didn’t pay any mind to it, as he nodded obediently and instantly got to work, grabbing his bike and steering it back into the garage. I took my time placing the tools he’d used back where they belonged, while he’d already gone inside to get his homework. After I was done, I closed the garage door again and turned around when quite suddenly, a small figure bumped into me.

“Sorry, Dad!” Milo apologised feebly while I gave a low grunt at the collision. “I didn’t mean to…!”

“Never mind, little man” I mumbled, ruffling his hair and looking down at him. Instead of books and maybe some sheets of paper or notebooks, I saw him carrying his favourite soccer ball.

Frowning lightly, I asked: “Well, where’s your homework, champ? I believe I told you to go and get it so I can have a look at it.”

“I showed it to Mom already” he answered promptly, looking up at me with wide, innocent eyes. “She said she’ll check it while we are at the park and before the twins wake up. I already told her bye from you.”

I eyed him for a moment and then smiled, nodding.

“Okay, let’s go then” I responded kindly, jerking my head in the direction of my SUV that was parked in the driveway. We made our way over to the car and Milo quickly got into the passenger’s seat, seemingly very eager.

“Come on, Dad, hurry!” he called, buckling himself in. I chuckled, shaking my head in amusement and getting into the car as well. Starting the engine, I watched as Milo fumbled around quite nervously with the ball in his hands before shooting me a toothy grin.

“You seem a little jumpy, Milo” I observed, backing out of the driveway with the car and driving it down the road and into the direction of the park.

“Huh?” he asked distractedly, looking out of the car window.

“I said you seem a little jumpy. Nervous, you know” I said, reaching over and patting his thigh gently. “Is everything alright with you?”

“Yeah, sure, Dad. I just can’t wait to play soccer at the park with you” he answered hastily and I nodded, finding the way he acted a little odd but deciding to let it slide for the time being. He was probably just antsy to burn off some of his energy and restlessness – I knew only too well what a long day at school could do to a youngster’s mind. And if there was anything on his mind, I would hear about it sooner or later anyway. Milo was quite open with me and his Mom – he’d always been. And even if he wasn’t today for any reason, I was sure that an hour in the park and letting him run around some would do wonders for his mood.

Sure enough, once we’d reached our destination and Milo was able to let off some steam, all his earlier frustration and nervousness seemed to melt away. And to be perfectly honest, I benefited from it, too. So we both roamed the park and played some soccer with Milo’s ball and I let him show off some of the tricks he’d learned from his soccer-playing school friends.

After yet another rather spectacular flipflap trick, he let himself down on the park bench, right beside where I was sitting.

“That’s amazing, buddy!” I praised, truly impressed. Throwing one arm around him, I gave him a proud smile that he returned. “Where did you learn all that? You sure make me look like a complete fool compared to you!”

He immediately turned bright red from the praise and gave a content sigh.

“Henry and Lewis showed me” he explained, gladly accepting the bottle of Gatorade I offered him and taking a few thirsty gulps. “They both play for the soccer team at school. Do you think I could try out sometime?”

I grinned at his enthusiasm. Milo had always been rather active and keen on any sports both preschool and junior high had to offer. He’d been part of the junior hockey team for over a year now and was really talented – much to my and Rory’s excitement and surprise, since we both weren’t all that sportive and hadn’t been as children, either.

“Let’s talk about that at home, champ” I answered hesitantly but with an encouraging smile still on my lips.

Before I could give him my consent, I wanted to discuss it with Rory, although… regarding Milo’s progress at school, I didn’t have any reservations really, since he was really doing a brilliant job in almost all of his classes – but, I still wanted to check it with her first. Maybe she had some second thoughts on the matter that I currently didn’t know anything about.

Milo instantly noticed my hesitancy, frowning lightly. He didn’t argue his case any further, which surprised me a little. Milo was quite strong-willed and most of the time, a topic such as this one would instantly spark a debate and would have him pleading his case until he had a final answer.

Not wanting to deny him at least a quick explanation, I told him soothingly: “I just want to check with your mom first, son, before I make any promises I cannot keep in the end. At the moment, I’m not saying no and think it’s good idea for you to try as many sports and other activities as you like… I just want to make sure that you don’t feel overwhelmed with too many responsibilities at school.”

When he didn’t answer but at least lost his frown, I instantly felt relieved.

“I suppose your mother will tell you the same thing, though – as long as your schoolwork doesn’t fall by the wayside and you have enough time for your homework, I’m pretty sure you can easily attend two sports.”

Milo nodded in understanding and I smiled once more. I was just about to suggest one last run through the park with his ball when my mobile phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket and accepted a call from Rory.

“Hi, Ace. Do you miss us already?” I greeted her good-naturedly.

“Don’t you ‘Hi, Ace’ me, Logan” she grumbled and my eyes widened at her sharp tone. “I thought we both agreed that Milo needed to finish his homework before going to the park…? I swear, you’re such a man-child sometimes, putting going to the park before his schoolwork…”

“Yes, of course… and he did, he… no, listen, I didn’t…” I responded rather ineloquently, giving Milo a confused sideways glance. That one look at him had my confusion cleared up quite quickly, though – he had his eyes downcast and had shuffled away from me, as far as the seating surface on the bench would let him.

“Yes, right” Rory answered disbelievingly. “I just went by his room to collect his clothes and found his books and notebooks on his desk, wide open but empty. Seems as though he hasn’t even started!”

That had my facial expression changing from one of bewilderment to annoyance and even anger. I gave my wayward son a hard stare, making him wince involuntarily and look away hastily.

“I think you have a point there, love” I told her tightly, feeling a little put out at the way she was addressing me and seemingly jumping to the conclusion that I had allowed Milo to abandon his homework in favour of going to the park. “I’m taking him home right away and hopefully, he’ll be able to explain what happened to his homework… or what didn’t happen, rather.”

Rory and I exchanged quick goodbyes and I sighed heavily as I pocketed my phone again, my eyes never leaving Milo. His cheeks and ear-tips had turned beet red, he was squirming around on the bench and trying hard to avoid my stern gaze.

Standing up, I moved in front of him and folded my arms over my chest.

“Come on, sonny” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral and probably failing. “We’re going home. Judging from the nervous looks you’re giving me right now, you already know what’s happened…”

He looked up, a perfect pout on his lips. He stared at my chest in order to avoid the meaningful look I was directing at him and shook his head.

“Didn’t you tell me that you gave your homework to your Mom so she could check it while we are at the park?” I asked pointedly, not beating around the bush in the slightest.

He shrugged and gave a small whimper instead of an answer that only made my frustration grow, then dropped his gaze to the ground again. No, little guy, that won’t do at all. Squatting down to be at his eye-level, I put my right hand under his chin and gently moved it up by two fingers so he was looking me in the eyes.

“Tell me the truth, Milo. Did you finish your homework?” I asked, a steely undercurrent to my still relatively calm voice. Seeing the nervous and guilty look in his eyes made my stomach do a flipflop and a feeling of disappointment spread inside of me. Aw, little troublemaker. Why?

“No, Dad” he admitted in a whisper, shooting anxious glances around, no doubt to see if anybody was watching the situation between the two of us unfold. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to go to the park with you.”

Sighing, I stood up again and turned in the direction of the park’s exit.

“Let’s go, young man. I think we have quite a few things to talk about at home.”

Hanging his head and not saying anything to that, he stood up from the bench and even took hold of my hand that I had extended for him. With a rather subdued little boy in tow, I made my way out of the park.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh... Milo's digging himself a little deeper, it seems... 
> 
> ** three swats to a pre-teen's backside in here **

**Milo’s POV**

The drive home was tense – scratch that, it was probably the most tense car ride I had ever experienced. Dad wouldn’t even glance at me, wouldn’t even say a single word to me. He just kept silent and stared ahead as he drove us home. He seemed lost in thought, too, because he didn’t even remember to put on some music or the radio.

A couple of times, I eyed him carefully from the side, trying to get him to look at me by searching his eyes, but he simply refused. I felt my hands getting sweaty and my belly clench rather painfully – I knew I had messed up pretty badly. Lying was probably the worst thing one of us kids could do, well, except maybe for putting ourselves in danger or wandering off. I hadn’t lied or even tried to tell a fib in a very long time, but I still remembered Mom’s and Dad’s rule about it. If the lie was big enough or I had used it to cover up something I knew was wrong, it would almost always lead to _big trouble_. And big trouble usually meant a spanking. I gulped loudly at those thoughts and shot my Dad yet another nervous look. He cleared his throat as we got to a red light and tapped the steering wheel impatiently with both his thumbs – I watched as he did so and nearly winced when I saw how the knuckles of his other fingers where almost white because he was holding on so tightly.

Yep, my butt was in for it. How could I be so stupid? And… why did I always have to get busted, too? Why did both my parents just feel the need to know about _everything_ I did or didn’t do? Why did they care so damn much? It wasn’t as if the homework I hadn’t felt like doing was all that important. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t do it either – all the assignments from our science teacher or our English teacher seemed dull and boring… and too easy for me, to be honest. I had been feeling bored for quite some time at school, ever since the teachers had changed some of the lessons to meet some of the slower children’s needs. My best friend Ryan was really happy about it, because he hated math and science and I knew he needed more time for most of the stuff we learned than I did, so whenever our teacher asked if we were finished with something and a few of the ‘faster’ kids would raise their hands and get more advanced stuff to complete, I rather kept silent and waited for Ry, so he wouldn’t feel bad. Of course, I wouldn’t tell my parents of my boredom and frustration at school either, because I already knew that they would make me do the advanced stuff, too and I wouldn’t be able to goof around with Ryan anymore.

Since the lessons had changed, I had taken to finishing all of my homework during recess or whenever Ryan had music lessons (which I didn’t take because I didn’t want to practice a musical instrument like he did) – before, neither Mom nor Dad had asked too many funny questions about my homework, knowing that I hardly ever needed help. But recently, I had started to get even more bored with the stuff and had simply decided that the small amount of time after the bus ride to school and before the teacher arrived at our classroom was more than enough to finish my homework. That way, I didn’t have to do anything at home. Problem was, Mom _had_ somehow noticed my lack of homework after a week or so and had talked to Dad about it, too. So Mom had explained to me why she and Dad didn’t think it was such a good idea for me to do it last minute and both of them had started to check it ever so often – no need to say how _great_ I’d found that. Anyway, today I had felt the frustration inside me grow and grow, up to a point where I simply didn’t care anymore if they found out or not. I just wanted out of the house and to forget about all those dull assignments for a few hours. Oh, how happy I was when Dad finally agreed and how surprised I was at how easily I had gotten around showing him my homework! Well, tough luck. Now both my Mom and Dad were mad at me and probably even at each other. I really hated when they fought, which hardly ever happened, but when it did, it scared me.

All of those thoughts suddenly brought tears to my eyes and I pressed them together hard, clenching my hands into fists and giving a small whimper.

That got a reaction from Dad. He whirled around and looked at me, his brow furrowed and with a very disbelieving look, as if me trying to hold back tears didn’t make any sense to him at all. His eyes lingered on me for a moment before he had to look back to the street once more.

“Hang on” he said tightly, scanning the street before us and suddenly indicating to the right where he came to a halt and parked the car, only a few blocks away from our house.

I looked at him, confused. “Dad? We… we’re almost…”

“No, don’t talk, not right now” he ground out, unbuckling himself and turning around to look at me. His eyes were as steely as ever and I only wished that he would stop staring at me, but he didn’t. After only a few seconds, I dropped my gaze and blinked away a few tears once more.

“I just don’t get it, Milo” he stated, sounding disappointed and frustrated. “I know that homework isn’t a whole lot of fun. I know that sometimes, it’s just too tempting to skip a few assignments and that’s even okay with your Mom and I, as long as you keep up with your curriculum and we don’t get the feeling that you start to struggle.”

At his words, my head snapped up in surprise and I looked at him with wide eyes. Was Dad really telling me that it was okay with him if I didn’t do all of my schoolwork? I must have misheard him, I was sure of it.

“Alright, I suppose I have started it wrong” he stated regretfully, rubbing his right hand over his face and eyes. “Listen, champ. I didn’t mean by that that you could go ahead and just skip schoolwork whenever you don’t feel like doing it. All I was trying to say was that both your Mom and I just don’t want you to feel overwhelmed with all your homework, as I can understand that it sometimes puts a lot of pressure on you… I was actually under the impression that you knew you could come and talk to us if you needed any help…”

The longer he talked and tried to explain things to me, the more anger I suddenly felt growing inside of me. What he was saying strongly sounded as if he didn’t trust me to get my homework done, as if it was too difficult for me to master.

“You really don’t get it! I thought you would, but you don’t!” I suddenly cried accusingly, taking him off guard. Now he was the one looking at me with wide eyes and with his eyebrows high on his forehead.

“What do you mean…?” he asked lamely, still processing what I had said.

“I _can_ do my homework, it’s easy! It’s so easy that I feel bored doing it, that’s why I don’t _want_ to do it!” I yelled, feeling my mouth getting dry and wringing my hands together.

Dad’s expression suddenly changed into a big frown.

“You mean… you mean to tell me that you are bored with your schoolwork?” he repeated, his voice taking on a low tone that almost sounded disbelieving.

“Yes!” I grouched, not caring anymore how rude I sounded. “Duh!”

That’s when he stopped looking surprised and I saw his look hardening. “That’s quite enough” he scolded sternly. “I think you’ve made your point, little boy. No need to start sassing me now and add that to all the lying you’ve been doing today.”

“But, I didn’t…!” I protested instantly, wincing when I felt the uneasy feeling returning to the pit of my stomach.

“You didn’t, huh?” Dad asked incredulously. His eyes flicked back and forth between mine and I felt myself blushing. “And what would you call what you did earlier, when I asked you if you had finished your homework before we went to the park?”

I didn’t know what I could reply to that, there really wasn’t anything I could say that would make my earlier actions sound solid and reasonable, so I kept silent, turned my head away from him and stared out of the window.

“That’s what I thought” Dad said and the disappointment in his voice was nearly too much to bear. I wanted to explain it to him, I wanted to somehow reason with him and tell him why I’d done it, why I had wanted to just have a break and get away from all of it for just a little while, but I couldn’t get a single word out of my mouth.

I could feel Dad’s eyes boring into the side of my head and I felt plenty uncomfortable, but I still didn’t know how to get myself out of the whole mess, so after a few seconds, I heard him giving a heavy sigh and starting the car once more.

“It doesn’t matter, we’ll have enough time to talk about it later” he promised darkly. “I have to tell you, though, I’m not happy with what you did, young man, not at all. I know I have been rather lax with you the past few weeks, both your Mom and I have been… but I’m not sure if it was such a wise move and I think it’s time for me to show you again that our basic rules still apply, even though you’re ten years old and starting to get all independent.”

Great, yet another statement that made me feel about ten inches tall and to which I simply couldn’t respond to.

The rest of the drive home was almost as tense as before, but most of the sad and panicky feeling I had harboured earlier was gone and had been replaced by anger on my part. Dad was being unfair, acting all high and mighty and I didn’t like the guilty feeling that came with it one single bit. Furthermore, I really didn’t want to face my Mom now – I was sure she would be in complete agreement with my Dad and probably wouldn’t understand my side of the story either.

The moment we drove up our driveway and Dad had finished parking the car, I let out a loud huff and gripped the buckle of my safety belt. I didn’t want to snap it open, I didn’t want to leave the car. I didn’t want to go inside and have to face both my angry parents. Most of all, I didn’t want to have to explain myself and tell them why I hadn’t felt like doing my homework – they wouldn’t understand anyhow.

Dad shot me a determined look. “I want you to go up to your room and wait for me there, please. I’ll have a talk with your Mom first.”

“What? But that’s not fair, Dad!” I complained, a little embarrassed when the whole sentence came out as a whine. Dad’s frown deepened. “It’s not fair that you and Mom talk about me and the school stuff when I’m not there!”

He sighed and shook his head. “Well, it’s not fair being lied to either, but you, sonny, did it still” he answered pointedly, unbuckling himself. He turned his body around to me and crossed his arms over his chest for a moment.

Before I could retort something, he held up a hand. “No, don’t start. Do what I told you to do, please and go to your room.”

I sighed, unbuckled myself and grabbed the door handle. Once I’d gotten out of the car and had walked around it, I looked up to the front door and hesitated. There, in the wide open doorway, stood my Mom with her arms folded in front of her chest and a deep frown on her face.

“Hi, Rory” Dad greeted her calmly and walked past me, stopping right in front of her. He reached out slowly and rubbed her upper arm. “It’s okay” he said, still sounding disappointed. Turning around once more to face me, he added: “Let’s go inside and talk while Milo goes upstairs and gets started on his homework.”

Mom nodded mechanically, her eyes still glued on me. My stomach did a flipflop and I gulped.

Without another word, both Mom and Dad went inside and I followed hesitantly, watching as Dad put his car keys down on the dresser in the hall rather forcefully.

Then, he turned around to me once more. “Go upstairs, Milo.”

“And like your father said, get started on your homework. _For real_ , this time” Mom ordered and I winced at her tone. She sounded pretty angry.

Slowly, I walked past them and up the stairs. I nearly expected to get a swat on my bum from at least one of them when I passed them, but it never happened. Glancing back, I saw that they had gone into the living room and I just stood there for a moment, debating with myself what I should do. The anger that was boiling inside of me told me to just march myself in there and yell at them for being unfair and for sending me away so they could talk about me, but the sad and disappointed look my Mom had had on her face somehow stopped me from doing just that. Clenching my hands into fists, I turned around, scanning the hall below me.

My eyes stopped at Dad’s car keys and I licked my lips nervously, then started to move downstairs again. The door to the living room had been left ajar, so I couldn’t see where Mom and Dad were, but I could hear them talk silently. Talk silently about me and the trouble I had caused by lying, no doubt.

Once again, fury flared up and with one determined look at the car keys, I grabbed them in my right hand and put them in the back pocket of my jeans. I went over to the front door and carefully opened it and stepped outside, my heart hammering inside my chest.

I didn’t know what I wanted to do, it wasn’t as if I could just take the car or drive somewhere… right? I knew both Mom and Dad had cars with something called automatic transmission, so they didn’t have to use stick shift while driving.

So more or less, it was just getting in, starting it, loosening the hand brake and it would take me wherever I wanted it to. I carefully closed the front door behind me and made my way over to Dad’s car, glancing inside. My soccer ball was still lying inside on the back seat. I felt a pang to my heart and stomach at all the fun my Dad and I had had during the afternoon – which only fuelled my anger somehow. I used Dad’s key to open the car and got inside at the front seat, not even bothering to check my surroundings first. I was going to loosen the hand brake and let it roll a few feet, only to the end of our driveway, just to see what it felt like. I looked around, spotted the starting button and pressed it, then reached for the hand brake. But then, quite suddenly and to my utter shock, the door swung open and a rather muscular arm shot inside, grabbing me by my upper arm and hauling me out of the car.

I didn’t even have time to cry out in surprise, because I was turned to the side and swatted three times, hard – so hard I had to go on my toes and the arm that had hauled me out of the car needed to steady me by my waist so I wasn’t going to topple over. I yelped with every swat. As soon as it was over, I was turned around and came face to face with my Dad. I nearly burst into tears at the stern look he was giving me, one of pure annoyance and anger.

He didn’t say anything, just eyed me sternly and reached around me and leaned himself halfway into his car while still holding onto my arm with his other hand. He turned the engine off and closed the SUV’s door with a rather loud thud, then released me.

Without a single word, he jerked his head in the direction of the front door, then raised a single eyebrow at me. When I didn’t move right away, he sighed in annoyance and grabbed me by my bicep once again, steering me up the driveway and into the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy the rather lenghty chapter that comes here... I really wanted to make some of the feelings and moods "visible" - both of Logan and Milo.
> 
> ** talking of spanking in here, but no actual swats **

**Logan’s POV**

“What were you thinking??” I asked tightly as I all but dragged my ten-year-old miscreant up the pave way and straight inside the house, where Rory was already waiting in the front hall with a wide-eyed look on her face. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t so much as give a peep. He just kept silent with that shocked puppy-dog-look of his, blinking a few times. Still, I could see him shaking like a leaf – I was sure he’d given himself quite the fright, too. But at that moment, I didn’t care. Frankly, I was far too shocked and angry to give a damn about comforting him right then.

“What happened, what’s wrong? Milo, what are you…?” she asked, but she didn’t get very far, as I released the semi-hard grip I had on his upper arm and said through gritted teeth: “I just caught him inside the SUV! He’d started the damn vehicle already and was about to loosen the hand brake. I-I-I can’t even…”

Not trusting myself to speak more and feeling dread and fear of what could have happened to Milo wash through myself, I turned sideways and away from him, clenching my shaking fists. I could hear Rory gasping in shock and bewilderment.

“Milo Elias Robin, what’s gotten into you?” I heard her ask before taking a few staggering steps into the living room.

“Mommy… I didn’t mean to!” Milo whispered and I felt another wave of anger. “I just…”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna need a few minutes” I mumbled. I knew I needed to get away from my son – if I didn’t want to say (or shout) something that I would regret later on or accidently strangle him right on the spot, I desperately needed a break, I needed to calm down.

Honestly, what had he been thinking? Dozens of pictures ran through my head at that moment, dozens of pictures of another car crashing into the SUV as Milo was backing out of our driveway, pictures of him being injured… I gulped loudly.

Looking around, I spotted the cabinet where Rory and I kept alcohol. I quickly debated with myself if I should go and get a glass of Bourbon, just a little sip, just something to cool my nerves a little. I decided against it.

Sitting down on the sofa, I sighed. What should I do? What should I tell him? What do you tell your kid that’s ten years old and just did something like this – something monumentally stupid like _this_? What had I – or both Rory and I – done wrong? Had we really been too lenient with him, had we forgotten that he was still a child that needed to be reminded not to, to… to just go and start a damn car on his own?! Jesus Christ.

I winced when I felt a hand on top of my thigh. Whirling around, I looked straight at Rory’s concerned face.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Logan” she murmured. Oh. Had I been talking out loud?

I sighed and let out a heavy breath that I hadn’t realised I had been holding.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s just a little boy, our little boy… yes, he made a few mistakes today, but that doesn’t diminish your abilities as a father and the great relationship the two of you share.”

“Our _little boy_ was about to take my car, Rory” I argued, leaning forward, resting the elbows on my knees and burying my face in my hands. “He was about to take my car, without so much as a glance back, without a care in the world… and in addition to being in trouble with us for lying about his homework. I just cannot believe it…”

Rory sighed and I looked up and sideways at her. “From the looks of it, he had no idea what he was doing. He was angry at us and frustrated because he’d been caught in a lie… he didn’t exactly think the whole thing through, I don’t think.”

I nodded absentmindedly.

“Where is he?” I then asked, pinching the bridge of my nose and taking a few deep breaths while Rory leaned into my side and put her head onto my shoulder.

“In his room. I walked him upstairs and told him to go take a shower to calm down and to wait for one of us… shocked as he was, he didn’t put up much of a fight” she explained.

We fell silent after that and I could feel some of my initial anger melting away. I was still pretty upset with Milo and at what he had done, but now, I was starting to relax a little. I even felt guilty at how hard I had smacked him outside… I would need to talk to him about that as well and offer him an apology.

“I lost it with him, I really did” I heard myself say suddenly, still recapping the earlier situation and how furious I had been.

“What do you mean?” Rory asked, putting an arm around my shoulders gently.

“I… I didn’t think about it, I just… When I went outside to check, I saw the backlights of the SUV turning on and heard the engine start, so I just ran over there and dragged him out of the car” I told her, my voice shaky and probably barely audible. Rory heard and understood anyway.

“And then I smacked him. Three times in a row. I smacked him so hard that he even cried out” I groaned, raking my hand through my hair and searching Rory’s eyes. I was surprised to see only sadness and understanding there.

“What have I done? I swore to myself that I would never treat my own kids that way, not… not like Mitchum Huntzberger. He did that all the time, you know, especially with me. Spank first, ask questions later” I rambled, getting more and more worked up by the minute, until I felt Rory shift on the spot beside me and a moment later, she squatted down in front of the sofa, looking straight at me.

“Stop it, Logan, stop it right now. You’re _not_ your father” she said firmly. “You didn’t spank Milo because you wanted to punish him as severely as possible; you spanked him because you were angry and panicky and because you acted immediate and on instinct.”

“Should have calmed down first…” I mumbled.

“Yes, you should have” she allowed and reached for both my hands. “That would have been better, I’ll admit that… but you’re not perfect, you’re just a human being, a parent. You just acted out of instinct and fear for our little boy. That happens. You need to forgive yourself for that.”

I was just about to argue further and point out what I could have done better, when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Both Rory and I looked up at the same time.

“Mommy? … Daddy?”

Milo stood there in the doorway, wringing the hem of his shirt nervously, his young face tearstained and grief-stricken. He suddenly looked so much younger than ten years.

“Hey, baby boy” I said before Rory could say anything else. I looked up at her and she gave me a small smile – a moment later, Milo started to sob and hurried over, throwing himself at me. Rory quickly stood, stepped away and I barely had time to open my arms in time to catch him.

“Hey, hey, sh.. shhh” I stammered soothingly, while Rory chuckled lightly and dropped a kiss to our son’s head.

“Dad, I’m so-so-sorry…! I didn’t mean to make you angry!” Milo cried brokenheartedly and I felt my heart clench at the sheer desperation in his voice.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetie” Rory told him, ruffling his hair and shooting me a questioning glance to which I nodded. “Okay, you two stay here for a while and I’m going to go and wake up the twins. They’ve been sleeping for almost two hours now and I’m sure they’ll be too hyper tonight if we let them sleep any longer…”

“Thanks, honey” I whispered into Milo’s short blond hair that was still slightly damp from his shower, glad that she understood. I watched her leave the room and sighed as some of my anxiety and regret lifted.

I pulled Milo into my lap, not caring that he was ten years old and normally didn’t like to be held like that anymore – well, maybe except for situations like these or whenever he was sick. Hugging him to my chest, I kissed his forehead and started to rub his back up and down.

We sat there a few minutes and I let him calm down while thinking about all the times in the past when we had been sitting just like that – after he’d been in trouble, after a nightmare, after he’d scratched his knee during a ball game or while roughhousing with Lucas, after he’d been fighting with his best friend… sooner or later, he’d sit either with me or his Mom, soaking up the comfort and hugs we offered. And we, of course, enjoyed giving it to him and our twins just as much.

“Dad?” Milo asked after a while, his voice sounding groggy and tired.

“Yeah?”

“I think you have picked the right car. It’s pretty cool” he said admiringly and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from laughing. Instead of laughing, I figured it was time for a little father-son-talk.

I cleared my throat and felt Milo tense up a little when I wouldn’t respond like he’d probably expected me to. I hoisted him up and onto my hip, stood, turned around and plopped him down onto the sofa, letting him sit where I’d been sitting. He gave a grunt of surprise.

Dropping down on one knee before him, I looked him straight in the eye and took hold of both his forearms.

“Milo, there are a few things I need to say to you” I said, frowning a little to show him that the time for joking around was definitely over. “First and foremost, I want to tell you that I’m sorry for how I handled things with you earlier… I’m sorry for spanking you without talking to you first. I lost my temper. I was scared and in a panic and… I shouldn’t have lashed out at you.”

Milo squirmed around on the sofa, clearly embarrassed. I let go of his arms and sat back a little, watching him closely.

“It’s okay” he murmured, avoiding eye contact. “You were angry and I.. uh, I shouldn’t have started the car.”

“No, you most certainly shouldn’t have and we’ll get to that in just a minute” I agreed sternly, then let my expression soften. “But I wanted you to know that it wasn’t okay of me to do that. I should have taken some time to calm down first before punishing you.”

He briefly looked me in the eye and I saw him blushing a little.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asked after a moment and I couldn’t help but sigh at how apprehensive he sounded.

“No, I’m not” I answered honestly. “I’m… well, I guess the correct words would be surprised and disappointed. I just have some trouble understanding why you would try something like that.”

When Milo didn’t say anything to that and just kept staring past me and to a spot somewhere on the floor behind me, I gently cupped his chin in my hand and searched his eyes. “Taking the car? Really? What were you thinking?”

Twisting free and shrugging my hand off, he shot me a heated look.

“I just wanted… I didn’t want you and Mom to be angry anymore because of my homework” he said, the last part coming out as a whine that instantly tugged on my nerves somehow.

“So you decided to give us something else to be angry about?” I asked before I could stop myself – honestly, I couldn’t fathom where his sorry excuse of an explanation was going and I could feel some of my earlier anger coming back.

“No!” he argued hotly. “I wanted to… to… I don’t know, I just wanted to go somewhere. Away from here, you know.”

“I ask again… _by car_?” A steely and disbelieving undercurrent was now quite audible in my tone.

“I thought I could try it… It looks so easy when you or Mom drive” he answered, blushing furiously. Alright, we’re not getting anywhere here, I thought. Milo obviously knew that he’d messed up, but I was still getting the feeling that he hadn’t grasped how serious the situation was. Thinking back to his earlier statement of “I didn’t mean to make you angry” only asserted that feeling. But what if he’d succeeded in driving the car into the street? What if someone had seen him, or worse: What if another car had been there and the person driving _hadn’t_ seen him and there would have been a crash? I didn’t even want to think about _that_.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, son, but there’s a good reason why you need to be a certain age to drive a car and get a licence first…” I said sternly, trying to choose my words carefully nonetheless. The look I got from him in return wasn’t what I had hoped, though – he frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I know, Dad! But…”

I shook my head firmly. “No. There cannot be any buts, ifs or ands. You need to understand how dangerous it was and what could have happened if I hadn’t been there in time.”

Rory chose that exact moment to re-enter the living room, just as Milo was about to argue further. I looked up at her as she came over and sat beside Milo, placing the little baby cam we used sometimes to monitor the twins’ sleep or their playroom activities when we had to do something else on the coffee table in front of her. She’d seemingly set up a Disney movie for Lori and Lucas to watch and from the looks of it, they were pretty engrossed with Aladdin for the time being.

Milo looked hopefully up at his Mom.

“I was just trying to explain to our speed racer here why it wasn’t such a good idea to start the SUV all on his own” I told her, ignoring the dirty look Milo shot me and also ignoring his cry of “I already said I know that, geez!”.

Rory frowned at him and shook her head.

“Well, it seems as though you _don’t_ really understand why both your Dad and I are not really happy about that” she stated, her eyes flickering back and forth between him and me. “You are ten years old, Milo. That means… not old enough to be driving a car, not by a long shot. It was simply dangerous and you knew very well that you weren’t allowed to do it.”

“You never said I couldn’t try” he murmured defiantly and somewhat cockily, his eyes that were just like mine peering at us from underneath his blond fringe. That somehow did it for me – I decided then and there that while those three swats I had doled out earlier hadn’t been my best move, he’d still been very deserving of them. And probably some more.

Rory seemed to have similar thoughts, because she went straight into stern-mom mode and began to lecture him further, about what could have happened on the street, ending it by saying “You are right, we never told you that you aren’t allowed to try driving one of our cars. I for one thought you had a little more common sense than that, kiddo.”

Milo huffed and glared at her.

“I think we’re not getting anywhere here” I stated, surprised how crisp my voice suddenly sounded. “What you did was wrong, young man, and on _so many_ different levels. If you don’t believe me or your Mom, you can always look it up online or ask a police officer. Right now, I don’t really care, though.” I made a small pause for effect and waited until I had my son’s undivided attention.

“What I do care about is that you chose to disobey us on more than one occasion today and also that you lied straight to my face when I asked you about your homework.”

“But, Dad!” he protested. “I… just…”

“Yeah? Do explain, because right now, I’m all but a few seconds away from picking up were I left off earlier” I threatened, cocking my head to the side and raising an eyebrow at him.

He frowned, then looked to his Mom once more for help.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, little boy” she scolded mildly, shaking her head. “Your Dad is absolutely right. You know how we feel about lying and putting yourself in danger and you also know what punishment awaits you if you disobey those rules.”

“No! That’s unfair! Dad’s already… you know! I don’t wanna get spanked!” he cried, drawing his knees up in front of him and hugging them to his chest.

Rory and I shared a brief look and she nodded, her lips a firm, determined line.

Looking at Milo again, I reached out my hand and patted his hands that were now intervened in front of him, holding his shins. “That’s not up for discussion, little one” I told him gently but firmly. “You probably knew what would happen if you got caught in your lie about your homework and your Mom just explained to you why trying to drive my car was foolish and dangerous.”

I could see some tears forming at the corners of his eyes – whether it was from anger or the feeling of unfairness, I couldn’t say. It didn’t matter either way. I had made up my mind already.

Finally getting up from the spot where I had knelt the past few minutes in front of Milo, I sighed and gave Rory a meaningful look. She nodded once more, stepped forward and leaned down slightly to be able to look our son in the eyes.

“I love you, monkey, but what you did today warrants more than those three swats your Dad has given you” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument – actually, I could feel my own stomach flipflopping at the seriousness in her voice. Quite the seldom occurrence, really… in the past, Rory had talked me out of spanking one of the kids on more than one occasion, opting for a less hands-on approach like grounding or taking privileges away. And I had always agreed with her in the end, of course. This time however, she seemed rather determined that Milo needed more than just a stern talking-to and a few days of boredom at home without his beloved Nintendo. This time, he’d put himself in huge danger by starting my car and he’d also told a blatant lie straight to my face – I was 100 percent sure that if I myself would refuse to spank him now, she’d take care of it herself.

Milo shook his head stubbornly and scowled at her, then at me.

“Alright, come on” I said, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer. I gently grasped Milo’s hands and pulled him up and into a standing position. He hesitated a little, but I could feel that he didn’t dare defying me anymore. Turning him around, I put one hand onto his right shoulder and started to usher him out of the living room and in the direction of the staircase.

“Let’s go upstairs to your room so we have a little more privacy, okay?” I offered, knowing that he’d appreciate it, even though he was still resisting and probably was going to put up a fight, judging from his current mood. As always, I really dreaded the task before me. I didn’t want to do it, I wished for nothing more than just letting him off with a pat on his blond head… but I knew I couldn’t. If he was to learn anything from today’s experiences, I needed to show him that both his Mom and I _cared_ and that we took our jobs as parents seriously. That sometimes meant I had to do the one single thing I despised most: causing pain and grief for my child. Hardening my heart and conscience, I glanced back to my wife one last time before following Milo upstairs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** spanking in this chapter, please beware **
> 
> And also, lots of fluff. <3

**Milo’s POV**

My heart was hammering against my chest as I made my way into my room and waited for Dad to close the door behind us. When he did, I gulped. I knew what came next and I hated it. It made me angry, too, knowing that I had messed up bad enough that _both_ Mom and Dad thought I’d deserve a spanking. So when Dad finally came into my bedroom, I didn’t turn around and just kept staring out of my window with my arms crossed over my chest.

I heard him sighing and the next moment, some shuffling and the sound of someone taking the chair in front of my desk and placing it somewhere else.

“Please look at me” he said, sounding stern and sad at the same time. Still, I stayed where I was and shook my head.

“It’s not fair” I complained. “I didn’t mean to lie to you or to… to start the car. And I already said I was sorry!”

“Please turn around and look at me, Milo” Dad repeated calmly and I obeyed. He was sitting in my desk chair with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and looking at me intently.

“I know you probably didn’t mean to do any of those things. You’re a good boy and I’m sure you are sorry for the way things have turned out” he said, trailing off and giving me a small smile. I sighed, feeling a little relieved – that feeling went straight out the window with what he said next, though.

“But” he started, turning stern once more, “Being sorry is simply not enough, little man. You _lied_ to me and you tried to _drive_ the SUV. In my opinion, the lie alone is enough for me to think that you have really earned yourself a spanking from me.”

My heart fell at that. No, no, no, no! That’s not what I wanted – he was supposed to just accept my apology and forget all about any forms of punishment.

“Daddy, please” I tried, feeling butterflies fly around inside of me. “I’m sorry!”

A look of uncertainty crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“Nuh-uh. That’s not going to work. You don’t get to disregard all the rules and then try and manipulate me by playing the Daddy card” he chided and I nearly cringed at how serious and almost annoyed he sounded. “Now, I’d suggest we get it over with. Come here.”

“No! I don’t want you toooo!” I whined, shaking my head repeatedly and backing away two steps. He sat up straight and crooked a finger at me before pointing to the spot right in front of him with it.

“ _Come here_ , please” he told me again, his voice a little louder than before. “I know you don’t want me to, but it’s still going to happen.”

“But it’s not fair! You’re being unfair, you-you-you…!” I protested, but I didn’t get to finish my sentence or find the perfect curse word to describe my Dad, because he interrupted me.

“Milo Elias Robin, my patience is running low” he warned, raising an eyebrow at me once more. “At the moment, you only have _one_ spanking coming your way, but if you keep defying me and make me come and get you, I might need to reconsider that decision. You broke _two_ rules, after all…”

“No!” I squeaked, blushing and stomping my foot in frustration. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Tears had started prickling behind my eyes and I squeezed them shut tightly. Maybe he would just go away if I squeezed hard enough.

“Because I love you and care about you, that’s why” he simply stated, not even bothering to raise his voice. “In fact, I love you and your siblings more than anything else in the world. That’s why, as your father, I need to make sure that you learn from your mistakes.”

At that point, some of the tears had started to fall and I could feel and hear my breath hitching. Opening my eyes again, I saw that Dad was staring right at me, a sad and unreadable expression on his face.

Without another word, he held out his right hand to me. “Come on, little one. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Letting out a frustrated whimper and trying the puppy-dog-look one last time – which failed, of course – I finally started shuffling over to my Dad. He was still holding out his arm and as soon as I reached it, he turned the flat of his hand upwards. A flicker of my eyes in his direction told me that he expected me to take his hand, which I did after another few seconds. He took my hand in his and rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand.

Gently, he pulled me closer to him and made me stand between his knees. I looked down to the floor to avoid his eyes. Standing there like that and looking down to the floor made me feel about two inches tall – I still didn’t dare to look up at him.

I thought he would probably just put me over his lap right away. Instead, he reached out and stroked my cheek, brushing away the tears.

“You understand why you are in trouble, don’t you?” he asked, just like he always did before punishing me, Lori or Lucas.

I thought about shaking my head and refusing to answer or refusing to let him spank me altogether, but I didn’t dare doing that, his threat from before still fresh in my mind.

I made a face but nodded. “I lied to you about my homework and I started the car” I mumbled.

“And you knew you weren’t allowed to do either of those two things, right?”

When I opened my mouth to tell him that neither Mom nor him had ever forbidden me to try starting the car, I looked up and saw that he was looking at me pointedly, so I decided against it.

“Yes, Dad” I whispered and he nodded.

“Good” he answered calmly, finally reaching out to open my jeans. “I’m afraid these have to come off. Lying and doing something dangerous will always lead to a spanking on your bare bum.”

“Nooo” I whispered, shaking my head. “Please, don’t!” I placed my hands over his and he stopped immediately what he was doing. Looking up at him, I saw how sad his eyes looked and it nearly made me want to throw up or at least start to cry.

“You can choose between that or a second spanking before bedtime” he told me patiently. I considered this for a few seconds and shook my head – that even sounded worse than just one spanking without my pants.

He nodded once more and quickly unbuttoned my jeans. “Come here” he murmured, guiding me to stand beside him, facing his thigh and I moved to lean over it slightly. He lifted me up easily and placed me over his lap – I instantly started to squirm, because it felt embarrassing and uncomfortable.

He shifted me a little so I wasn’t resting right on his kneecaps anymore, then I felt one hand rubbing my back. “Twelve smacks, Milo” he said tightly and then he pulled both my jeans and undies down to my knees.

Squeezing my eyes shut again and reaching down with one hand to clasp some of Dad’s pant leg, I whimpered. The first swat fell and I jumped.

“Ow!” I cried, even though it hadn’t really hurt. I was just startled and hated the position I was in. Dad didn’t respond to that, only held me a little tighter and picked up a faster rhythm.

At the fourth or fifth smack, I started to cry and wriggled around as much as I could. I even tried to kick my legs and to push myself up by my arms at some point, because my butt was now hot to the touch and stung.

“Settle down, young man” Dad scolded, but he didn’t sound angry. I cried harder and felt my tears dribbling down my cheeks, trying hard to stay still.

“It hurts, Daddy! Stoooop!” I yelped at the eight smack and pushed myself up off his legs once more, but to no avail. The hand on my back pushed me right back down and easily kept me there in place while the other hand delivered the last four swats with a tiny bit more force and directly to my sit spots.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch, ooowww!” I complained loudly with each smack and then just continued crying, at first not really caring that it was finally over.

Dad started to rub my back gently again and I could hear him saying something, but I couldn’t exactly hear anything over my own hitched breathing and sobs. A few more seconds passed and then I felt him shifting beneath me – the next moment, he’d scooped me up and placed me on my feet, to which I gave a whining sound.

“Just a second, baby boy” Dad said and I let him reach down to pull up my undies at least. “Do you want to stay like that for a while? Your jeans aren’t really comfortable, not right now, I guess..." he asked and I was a little surprised that it sounded like an apology.

I nodded and leaned forward, stepping out of the jeans that lay puddled at my feet. Then Dad put his arms around me and pulled me close, letting me crawl into his lap.

That’s when I suddenly started to care less and less about the sting in my backside – the most important thing right now was that my Dad was holding me again and that he didn’t sound angry at all anymore.

“It’s over, little one. Just let it all out, that’s my good boy” he murmured into my ear and I nodded as I started sobbing once more, right into his chest and shirt. He didn’t care, of course. He just held me tighter and patted my lower back with one hand while the other caressed the back of my head and hair.

“’m sorry” I whispered and gave a sigh once my cries had finally calmed down.

I heard Dad give a small laugh – it didn’t sound as if he was trying to make fun of me. It sounded as if he was laughing because he was relieved.

“I know, sweetheart” he replied, kissing my forehead. “And you’re very much forgiven. I love you, Milo.”

“Love you, too, Daddy” I answered immediately, relaxing against his hold and even giving a small smile which he couldn’t see because my face was pressed against his chest. Finally, I wasn’t angry anymore – or confused or scared or annoyed. I just enjoyed the feeling of being held by my Dad. I felt safe.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe you've already been waiting for this... let's talk about school, yay! ;-) The main focus lies on Logan finding out about what's been bothering his son... and, of course, on lots of father-son fluff. Enjoy and let me know what you think!

**Logan’s POV**

Tracing the outlines of Milo’s shoulder blades with the fingers of both my hands absentmindedly and resting my chin on top of his head, I sighed. My heart ached at the mere thought of what had happened only moments before. If Rory and I wouldn’t believe in its effectiveness, we sure as hell wouldn’t be using that form of punishment on our children. As it was, we only came back to it for the serious stuff, although we did use single swats to the bottom for smaller offences and always had since Milo had been old enough. These days, mostly Lori and Lucas were on the receiving ends of those, as they had just discovered what fun it could be to test the general boundaries. They were also trying to find out who was quicker to anger – was it Mommy or Daddy? Who would go easier on me if I’d refused to do as I was asked, who would get annoyed faster by making a mess and what kind of reaction would I get as a response for something from that list or for other naughty things? It was a constant learning process for them – for all of us, really. And since the twins had just turned two a few weeks back, the so-called ‘terrible-twos’ era was starting to develop among them; or hit us all with full force, rather. Whilst Milo had been quite the easy-going toddler and had misbehaved only on rare occasions until hitting the age of five-ish, the twins really were a (doubled) force to be reckoned with and had been since day one.

Milo on the other hand had turned from the adventurous and trouble-seeking pre-schooler to a really well-behaved, polite and kind sub-teenager, with some very few exceptions and despite that natural mischievous streak of his (which he hadn’t inherited from me at all, of course). Sometimes, it was hard for both Rory and me to realise that he in fact was still a little boy and not some pintsized adult. Coming to think of it, I suddenly recognised that it was especially hard on me, because ever since the twins had been born, my firstborn had instantly as well as instinctively started to act a lot more mature and had proven to be a responsible and patient big brother for Lori and Lucas. In the past few months, Rory and I had therefore started to let Milo help around the house more, let him choose his own bedtime more or less (at least on the weekends) and we had even started to let him have more freedom concerning his schoolwork – the latter being a decision we had amended later on, of course, when Rory had noticed Milo’s habit of finishing his homework during the mornings before his lessons had started.

Looking down at the sniffling little form in my lap now, I couldn’t help but smile fondly. Maybe it was high time for me that I showed him that he didn’t need to act so grown-up all the time. Maybe that was why he’d thought it wasn’t such a big deal for him to try something like starting my car. And _maybe_ , whatever was going on with his schoolwork had something to do with how I’d expected him to act at home – or in general, really. Be it as it may, I decided then and there that I would get to the bottom of this and make sure that Milo realised that he was still allowed to be a child, even if it meant that both Rory and I would start to take a few responsibilities back, so to speak. I was quite sure that he wasn’t going to like that all that much, but well… perhaps there were some compromises we could consider. The most important thing to me – and to Rory, of course – was that he was happy and that he always felt protected and safe... and well cared for.

I gave yet another sigh at those thoughts and wrapped my arms a little tighter around him. He’d mostly stopped crying by now, there was only an occasional sniffle or whimper coming from his lips.

I slowly loosened my hug on him and leaned back in the chair so I was able to look at him. He was still keeping his gaze downcast, though, so I cocked my head to the side and used one hand to gently draw his chin up.

Looking straight into his wide, dark eyes that were still slightly red rimmed, I was glad to see that most of his tears had already dried away and his cheeks weren’t as puffy as before.

“How are you doing, champ?” I asked calmly, an encouraging smile on my face.

“’m okay” he mumbled, wriggling a little and using the back of his hand to rub over his eyes.

“Are you sure?” I prompted, the concern all too evident in my tone.

His eyes met mine briefly. “Yes, Dad. I’m okay” he replied. “I’m just... I don’t know.” He didn’t make any attempts to get off my lap, nor was he indicating to me that he was embarrassed about it, not even by the fact that he was still only wearing his underpants – to me, that was yet another sign that maybe my earlier notion had been right.

Frowning slightly while studying his face, I ruffled his hair and placed my hand at the back of his neck. He looked up at me again.

“Is there anything you would like to talk about?” I asked, my eyes never leaving his. “You know you can come and talk to me or your Mom at any time, about… well, about anything, really. Whenever there’s something bothering you, we’re here for you, little one. Always.”

I could see his brow furrowing a little at that, but he nodded.

“Is there something you would like to address now?” I repeated my earlier question with a little more confidence in my voice, but then I couldn’t help the nervous chuckle. “We can also go and find your Mom or I can go and get her, if you preferred for her to be here as well. We can have a talk together, a family meeting, if you will.”

The frown on that little face before me deepened in response. Get a grip, Huntzberger, I thought to myself. Of course he doesn’t want that – no ten-year-old boy wants to talk about his feelings with his Mom. And Milo, being as independent as he was, was no exception to that – even though he and Rory had a close mother-son bond. He was still so much like me – both character-wise and regarding his looks – that he somehow tended to come to me more often. At that moment, I found myself wondering if it was a father-son thing maybe… maybe it was both my boys who would seek my advice more often than their Mom’s and my little girl would turn to Rory instead? Maybe it was only natural that way.

“Alright, that’s not what you want to do” I mused aloud then, turning back to the present time and the task at hand. I cleared my throat while searching for the right words. “But quite obviously, there’s something – or a lot – going on in that head of yours and I would very much like to know what exactly. I’m worried about you, buddy. Lying about homework and doing the exact opposite of what you were asked to do… it’s just not like you.”

Milo sighed at that, looking down at his lap and fiddling with his hands at the hem of his shirt. I considered his face for a moment and waited for him to start talking – this time, I was pretty sure that he would, given that the small muscles in his jaw were working overtime and his brow was still wrinkled in deep concentration. He was probably trying to find the right words to describe his feelings, just like I had been doing. Sure enough, after a few minutes, he finally looked up at me.

“It’s just… I don’t like it at school, Dad” he confessed and blushed lightly. “I like to be with my friends and I like the sports team, but I don’t like the lessons.”

“I understand that feeling” I answered kindly. “It’s tough sometimes. There’s a lot of schoolwork, there’s a lot of responsibility on your shoulders… and high expectations, of course.”

His expression changed to one of confusion. Reaching out and gently trying to rub some of the tension out of his furrowed brow with my thumb, I smiled at him apologetically.

“I suppose your Mom and I haven’t been doing a very good job listening and well… watching you. We should have asked you about your schoolwork sooner, we should have known that something wasn’t quite right” I admitted, then thought that maybe it was the perfect moment to address his earlier confession in the car, where he had told me that he was bored at school and while doing his homework. Milo shrugged.

“Remember when we were driving home from the park earlier…?” I asked curiously and waited for his timid nod. “You told me that you are bored at school. Is that true? Is that why you don’t like it there?”

There came another timid nod that made me raise both my eyebrows.

“How come? Could you please explain that to me?” I prodded, trying hard to decipher what was going on.

An unsure as well as somewhat frustrated look crossed his face and he gave a whine.

“Doesn’t matter” he grouched suddenly, letting go of the hem of his shirt and starting to climb off my lap. I acted on pure instinct and gently tugged him back.

“No, no, no, little man, that’s not on” I admonished with a knowing smile. “We’re talking about the stuff that’s bothering you, right here and now. Consider it part of your punishment for the stunts you pulled today.”

He shot me a heated glare, but I didn’t comment on it. I knew that pushing the issue could probably result in a spectacular meltdown on his part, but my gut was telling me to try my luck anyhow. If he thought he could out-stubborn me, he was sorely mistaken.

So I told him with more confidence than I felt: “I know you’re not going to be all that happy about it, but we’re going to talk now. And I need you to be honest with me here, because it’s very important. I _want_ to know what’s wrong.”

His expression didn’t change at all, but he stilled his movements and wasn’t trying to wriggle away any longer. I counted it as a success.

“Come on, Milo” I urged gently. “It’s me, your Dad… you can talk to me. I promise I’ll hear you out and I’ll help you with whatever is bothering you. I’m sure we can…”

“I’m bored all the time!” he suddenly cried, effectively cutting my rambling off. “I’m bored at school, I’m bored at home doing school stuff… it’s dull and stupid and I won’t do it anymore!”

I was confused, profoundly confused… but I tried not to show it.

Milo’s always had a knack for school, just like his Mom. He’d always done really well, without much effort. He had been able to write his name and all the names in his family by the age of four, he’d known numbers up to thirty even prior to that. The first few years of school had been quite easy for him, so Rory had made sure to offer him some trickier challenges regarding counting, reading and even writing at home. Since he’d started junior high, he’d been a little more occupied, but both Rory and I had the distinct feeling that it had more to do with all the extracurricular stuff and sports he attended than the workload his lessons provided.

“Well, okay… what’s boring? The lessons themselves because your teachers are old doters that don’t know how to make them somewhat interesting for you kids or does the schoolwork bore you because you… you already know…”

“ _Yes!_ ” Milo interrupted me again, a look of surprise and relief spreading on his face. I blinked a few times.

“I already know those things, Dad!” he said, sounding excited all of a sudden. “Sometimes, the teacher writes down numbers and math problems on the blackboard and even before he’s done and tells us to start solving it, I’d have solved it in my head.”

Now that was interesting. _Now_ we are talking, little one, I thought. Raising both my eyebrows as high as they would go, I considered what he’d said and could already feel some of the tension and dread that had started to form in the pit of my stomach melting away. My son was a prodigy – or at least he was _really_ smart. He could solve math problems in his head, before the teacher’s had the chance to write all of it down. Wow! Highly impressive. Rory was going to absolutely love that. No wonder Milo was bored to death there and bored to death at home doing the exact same stuff over and over!

“That’s… I mean…” I stammered, still trying to process what he’d just told me. I looked at him imploringly, reaching out and cupping his cheek gently.

“Milo, that’s amazing!” I praised. Milo nodded excitedly, jumping up and down a little on my knees. I chuckled.

“You know what that means?” I asked and he stilled, suddenly unsure again.

“No. Does it mean that I don’t have to do homework anymore?” he asked hopefully, a wide smile already forming.

Chuckling once more, I shook my head.

“Sorry, but I’m afraid that’s not happening” I told him, smirking when his face fell. “You’re a student, your job is doing schoolwork. But I’ll tell you what it means… it means that your Mom and I will go and have ourselves a nice talk with your teachers so they know, too. And together we’ll work out a new curriculum for you that’s not boring and dull.”

“No! I don’t want that!” he exclaimed rather forcefully and suddenly jumped off my lap. I frowned, watched as he snatched the jeans he’d been wearing earlier off the floor, and roughly started to put it on again.

“Why not?” I asked gently. “If you’re bored at school, we need to change that.”

“But I don’t want you to!” he grouched, crossing his arms over his chest and shooting daggers at me with his eyes. “You and Mom and all the stupid teachers can forget about that!”

“Careful there, sonny” I told him pointedly. He stopped in his tracks at my serious tone. “You can tell me in your normal inside voice and without any curse words what you think about a new curriculum for you.”

“But… but… Dad! It’s unfair!” he was looking at me with wide, almost panicky eyes and I couldn’t help but let my expression soften once more.

“I can imagine you must feel that way” I allowed, sighing. “But that’s the only option I see here… you cannot just drop your schoolwork and refuse to do it, Milo. Both your Mom and I can’t allow that, because your school will start asking funny questions about it and as long as we don’t talk to them and tell them what’s going on, you’ll continue to get in trouble because of it.”

“They’ll make me sit away from Ryan during classes, I just know it” he then whispered begrudgingly, dropping his gaze to the ground. “Ryan’s not as fast as me, he always needs a little more time for his homework ‘n stuff… so I wait for him and pretend I needed more time, too.”

Once again, it was my turn to simply sit there, blinking stupidly and failing to come up with a decent answer to what he’d just told me. Aha!

I regarded him for a few seconds and then stood up from his desk chair. In two big strides I was standing in front of him and was squatting down to be able to look him in the eyes once more.

“We’ll work something out, champ” I told him sincerely. “We’ll come up with a perfect plan for the situation at school, one where you won’t have to sit away from your best mate.”

“You promise?” he asked, the worry evident in his voice and a look of sheer disbelieve plastered all over his features.

“Of course I promise” I answered, giving him a smirk. “I give you my word, on my honor as a Life and Death Brigade member.”

He looked at me questioningly, but didn’t comment on what must have sounded strange to his ears – of course, he was still far too young to hear about all my escapades at Yale, so I was glad that he didn’t pick up on it for the time being.

Changing back the topic, I said: “First, I’ll tell your Mom what you told me and we’ll figure out something we can tell your teachers. Then we’ll make an appointment to talk to them and we’ll make sure that whatever they can come up with, it’s something you can agree with. Okay?”

Milo narrowed his eyes at me for all but three seconds, then dropped his frown and let a small smile dance around his lips.

“Okay, Daddy. Thank you” he mumbled.

“You’re more than welcome, buddy” I replied good-naturedly, opening my arms and chuckling when he all but jumped into them, nearly tackling me to the ground.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortness of this chapter - I just wanted to give a little prospect and final outcome of all the trouble at school Milo had encountered. Just a little fluff for all of you! :-)

**Milo’s POV**

_Two weeks later…_

“Hi, Dad,” I greeted him as he came into the kitchen, a wide smile instantly on his lips as he saw me and Ryan sitting at the kitchen table, stuffing our faces with the snacks Mom had laid out for us.

“Hi, Logan,” my best mate greeted, too. He’d been calling my Dad by his first name ever since they’d had this talk about ‘big brother duties’ when Ryan and I were five. I myself called Ryan’s Dad by his first name, too.

“Ah, there you are! Hello, gentlemen,” Dad replied casually, strolling over and ruffling both our hair as he passed by. Then, he made a beeline for the coffee machine.

“Where’s your Mom, Milo?” he asked as he poured himself a mug. “And the twins?”

“She’s upstairs with Lori and Lucas, getting them ready for the toddler swimming class. She said she’ll take them today,” I answered dutifully, taking a few gulps of apple juice from my glass. Dad nodded and took a sip.

“Great, great. So, how was your day at school? Anything interesting happen…?”

Ryan and I shared a look and simultaneously shook our heads.

“Nah, not really,” Ryan responded. “Milo’s been helping me with the math homework. Fractions. Blech!”

Dad laughed. “Oh, I feel you, buddy. Fractions can be a pain in the behind, that’s for sure.”

He then turned to me and gave me a smirk. “Seems to me as though our deal with your teachers is working out rather well, hmm?”

I rolled my eyes at that, but with a smile. Since my Dad and Mom had had the talk with my teachers at school, my lessons and the amount of my schoolwork had changed a lot. They had made sure that I wouldn’t have to sit away from Ryan or that I wouldn’t have to swap classes altogether, so they had worked out a plan for both of us. If I helped Ryan with his homework and to prepare for tests, I could remain where I was and could do some extra work, so I wouldn’t feel so bored anymore. I had a lot more homework and stuff to do now, but as long as I got to stay where I was and keep Ryan and my other friends, I was happy.

“Yeah, more schoolwork, yay!” I retorted anyway, just to rile Dad up a little.

“Hey, you’re far too young for all that sarcasm, little man,” he scolded, but he was still smiling widely at me. Both Ryan and I giggled at his bad attempt at scolding me and he laughed along, too.

“Well, I’m glad you both are fine with the new way of doing things at school,” Dad then said, sounding a bit more serious and eyeing both Ryan and me over his mug of coffee. “If you should have any difficulties or problems with the workload or questions, just let us know. We can always go back to the teachers and look into our options again. Okay?”

“Yes, Logan,” Ryan replied, nodding. I could see that he was somewhat tired of talking about the topic again and again, which I understood. At first, he’d been really sad and unhappy about the whole thing and had even told me that he didn’t want me to help him and that it made him feel stupid if I were to help him with his homework… it had taken a lot of persuasion and talks about all of it, with all our parents and teachers. Now, we’d had some time to adjust, I had already managed to help him out with some math problems, and we’d been able to work on a science project together. So far, so good, as my Mom always said.

Luckily, Dad also picked up on Ryan’s mood and changed the topic to something else.

“Well, you two, seeing that it’s Friday afternoon and school is somewhat far away for all of us now… how about the three of us go outside and play some soccer? You up for that?” Dad asked and winked at us. I instantly felt excitement going through me at the very idea – after the talk with our teachers and another lecture from my parents, they had allowed me to try out for the school’s soccer team in addition to the hockey practice I already attended weekly. Mom and Dad had reminded me that schoolwork always came first, though, so if there should be any problems with my responsibilities at school, they would take me right off the team again. _Yes, Mom and Dad, I got it already!_

“Yeah!” Ryan and I cheered in unison, finishing our snacks quickly and placing our dishes in the sink, just like we were supposed to.

“Cool! I’ll just go upstairs and change into something more comfortable, you can go outside and get ready,” he told us, placing his empty coffee mug in the sink also.

“I’ll go and get my shoes!” Ryan called over his shoulder, already on the way outside. Before I could follow him, though, Dad had placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Wait a sec, son,” he said and I turned around to face him. He bent down to be on the same height as me and gave me a smile.

“Just wanted to check with you if you really are okay with all those changes that have been going on,” he spoke somewhat curiously. “Your Mom and I haven’t checked sooner because we thought we could give you some time to adjust first.”

I felt a little bit of annoyance at the way he was asking all those questions, but I didn’t want to show it too much, as I really didn’t want to get in trouble so soon again.

“Everything’s fine, Dad,” I told him a little impatiently. He gave me a serious look that made me straighten up.

“I think it’s great now the way it is… I’m not bored anymore and nobody’s making fun of me. And I think Ryan is okay with it, too.”

“Okay, that’s great,” he answered, sounding relieved. “If that should change or you should start to feel overwhelmed, I want you to come and talk to me or your Mom again. No more keeping such things all to yourself, okay?”

His voice was a lot stricter now and he was looking at me sternly.

“I know it probably doesn’t sound all that cool to you and you probably didn’t like it very much when I made you talk about the school stuff back then, but it’s really important that you do. Best before it starts bothering you.”

“I know,” I replied, sighing. Dad looked at me for a moment and I was sure that he would scold me now for my ‘attitude’, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave me a nod and suddenly grinned.

“Come on, let’s go find that little soccer-pro friend of yours and head on outside,” he suggested, gesturing towards the general direction of our back garden.

My face lit up again and I jumped up and down excitedly. “Yes! I can’t wait to show you all the tricks I learned!”

Dad laughed again. “What, you attend soccer practice once and now you already know all the tricks?”

“Maybe not all of them,” I grinned cheekily at him. “But I’m really good, the coach said!”

Leaning down, he quickly planted a kiss on top of my head, then turned me around and propelled me forward with a light swat to my butt.

“Off you go, my little striker, I’ll be with you boys in a few minutes,” he called and I happily ran outside, where Ryan was already busy kicking the ball in the air and trying to catch and balance it on his head.

“Wanna show me how you do that?” I asked, smiling brightly when my best friend nodded.

“’course! You help me with math, I help you with this!” he replied with a grin and together, we tried various tricks until my Dad finally joined us.

_The End – for now._


End file.
